


Amaro

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Creeper Jack, Cyberstalking, M/M, Near Future, Stuffing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Jack has never been interested much in omegas.But in the aftermath of a falling out with Nisha, he finds himself in need of a distraction, reluctantly resorting to browsing social media where—against all odds—an omega manages to catch his eye.





	Amaro

**Author's Note:**

> This was a collab between me and [Starfruitspice](http://starfruitspice.tumblr.com/post/171606028133/thethespacecoyotes-instagram-au-jack-sends) dealing with an AU where Jack finds Rhys' social media profile and becomes obsessed with him. Kind of dealing with creepy Jack and privacy issues and manipulation, so if that makes you uncomfortable, this might be a good fic to sit out.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy!

The last thing Nisha had told him before slipping out of his office and out of his life once again, was that Jack needed to find himself a nice omega to settle down with.

Jack would have laughed if he, at the time, hadn’t been so riled up from their latest argument. So he’d merely growled after her, too pissed to form words, before tightly crossing his arms and settling in his chair to pass the rest of the evening thinking about why he even bothered in the first place indulging Nisha’s fickle temper for a couple rounds of decent-at-best sex. They’d been so off-and-on Jack was starting to get seasick, and after their last fight he really needed to hold off for a bit to let his stomach settle.

He’d tried his best to forget about her, but that damn comment had stuck in his head for days after their fight, poking at his mind every time he’d managed to get it off of his rapidly cooling sex life.

_You need to find yourself a nice omega to settle down with_.

As if. As far as Jack was concerned, an omega was the  _last_  thing that he needed.

It wasn’t that he had anything against them in particular. He’d like to think he was above the more pedestrian prejudice entertained by those less rich and important than he was. But omegas tended to be a little more introverted and standoffishthan Jack preferred, sticking to established groups and friends and mates. Most omegas Jack saw had a little posse clustered around them for comfort and, he guessed, protection? Endotype necessitated different social spheres,and his and those of most omegas just didn’t intersect. No big deal.

So settling down wasn’t gonna work out.

Still, Jack had needs like everyone else. And with Nisha gone AWOL and not returning his texts with anything more than a “lol” if even that, he had to take those needs out somewhere. Sadly, Hyperion employees weren’t the best looking bunch around—HR had unfortunately reminded him that screening for attractiveness might weed out too much talent to be advisable—so he’d have to go looking elsewhere instead of browsing through employee records searching for someone he could fantasize about.  

He wouldn’t dignify any dating site with his time, so he moved on to the next best thing. Jack wasn’t a big fan of social media in general and typically outsourced that to entry-level interns scrambling for a chance to ghostwrite their hero’s daily ramblings. But there were plenty of hotties desperate for attention posting their faces and bodies 24/7 up on here, so Jack figured he’d give it a shot and worst come to worst he’d just have to tap a few keys to delete his mistakes.

Easy enough.

Within minutes Jack had his profile up and running, wisely choosing  _not_  to attach his real name of picture. Despite how tempting it might be to get the babes flooding in by blatantly advertising who he was, it could invite some unwanted attention. And though the Jack of a few years back would consider any publicity good publicity, the Jack of the present—with more than a couple unpleasant scandals under his belt—preferred to indulge in a  _teensy_ bit of discretion if he could help it.

The minimalist design of the website seemed simple enough to navigate. He grasped the basics of it with a couple easy clicks before going ahead to browse the armies of hotties throwing out lures into the digital sea.

And man, were they  _hot_.

He scrolled by alpha babes with great bodies and thighs that could split his skull in two. Beta guys and girls alike with toned abs and great butts and hair either spiked up with gel or worn down in ponytails.

And yet, surprisingly, none of them piqued Jack’s interest. After a few minutes he’d already grown bored, his eyes glazed over as he scrolled past dozens of profiles. He might mildly focus on one picture or bio, but he inevitably flitted on to the next. Everyone on here was hot, sure. But all the girls reminded him of Nisha and all the guys blurred together just like the countless beta and alpha males he’d screwed his boredom into over the years.

He was about ready to chuck the whole endeavor out the window and just beat off in his room until he couldn’t see straight, when he stopped scrolling for a split second longer than usual and found his eyes falling upon one profile in particular.

The listed name, gender, and age seemed pretty standard for the site’s demographic— _Rhys, male, 26 years old_ —but the little symbol tacked onto the end had Jack’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

Symbolic language comprised a decent share of communication online, so its use didn’t particular shock him. But while half the other shorthand flew completely over his head, Jack instantly recognized this one. He’d seen it on employee records when the data entry clerks grew too lazy to type out full words, and in the scant articles he’d read about endotype history when he’d had the passing fancy to learn. ****

Ω.

_Omega._

None of the previous profiles Jack had browsed dare to advertise omega status. Most listed alpha or beta alongside their other information, or nothing at all. Considering flashing one’s omega card often resulted in one of two things—unwanted attention, or insults—Jack was surprised to see someone owning it so openly.

Jack narrowed his eyes at the little profile picture tacked besides the bio. He couldn’t tell much from such a shrunken image, but the kid had a baby-face, softening his looks until he appeared slightly younger than his listed age. Maybe not yet aware he should be wary of strangers slobbering over the very concept of omegas.

Still, this was the first of the profiles to stop and make him think, so maybe this “Rhys” really had earned a moment of the alpha’s attention.

Jack propped his cheek up against his palm as he clicked on the page. Brightly filtered photos instantly spilled across the screen, giving him a better look at the man behind the profile. He didn’t know what to focus on first, so he just he just clicked the one at the very top-left.

It showed this Rhys outside at some kind of park, frozen mid-walk down a grassy bank and smiling brightly from below flashy pair of sunglasses. Jack quickly noticed the telltale boxy, chrome-yellow style of a Hyperion cybernetic arm poking out of the left sleeve, cropped to make room. By the shoulder cap and palm light, it seemed like the Aegis model—couple years out of date at this point, but reliable. Their cybernetic research had been improving leaps and bounds recently, with a sleeker, refined, heretofore-unnamed version on the cusp of release. But he worked it, the robotic arm operating seamlessly with the flesh despite the obvious visual discrepancy.

Huh. The kid had good taste. Nothing like a shared brand to really get Jack invested and clicking around for more.

He flipped to the next image. There the kid sat posed at what he assumed was his kitchen, perched atop a white barstool and making a peace sign at the camera. Tongue out in a little pink tab, fingers of his other hand perched atop a wide glass half full of amber liquid. Dressed in a lightweight turquoise dress shirt and a plain pair of charcoal jeans. Shoulders sloped, relaxed and uncaring as the hair that cascaded off of his forehead in a coif twirling the line between messy and stylish. Casual, but undeniably handsome with the light of the window behind him filtering in.

Jack moved onto the next one only to get slapped across the face with posed, half-naked omega.

All right, maybe he wasn’t  _half_  naked, but  _damn_.

The kid now stood in a living room, if the couch and coffee table were any indication, but his outfit said less “entertaining guests” or even “watching television” and more “flaunting about in a boudoir shoot.” The same blue shirt from before lay unbuttoned down to the tip of the sternum but the pants were totally gone, revealing a pair of navy blue underwear patterned with yellow stars that hugged tight around his hips. With his legs bare, Jack got a better understanding of their length, and  _damn_  if the kid wasn’t taller than him he was getting pretty damn close, which Jack considered impressive.

He’d never seen this much skin on an omega outside of porn. Most he came across while out and about dressed modestly, afraid of the lecherous and unkind looks other endotypes might cast upon them, and Jack didn’t exactly blame them. He’d heard the way alphas, hell even some betas, talked about omegas when in private, uncurbed by social decorum. Gross stuff, and that was coming from  _him_. Even omega models in ads and television designed to sell sexy stuff like cologne and underwear kept it fairly clean, with only the occasional bare midriff or swaying hip. The rest kept it all suggested, left up to fertile imagination.

But this guy, this  _Rhys_ , had busted all expectations Jack had of omegas in only a couple casual selfies. Not only did he bare himself to hundreds, if not thousands of public eyes with nonchalance—if not thrill, if his captions were anything to go by—but his appearance suggested a stark departure from the stereotypes Jack had come to define omegas within.

And he had  _tattoos_! Jack couldn’t see them in the first of the suggestive pictures, but when he moved to the second, where Rhys had shed his right sleeve and let the shirt fall about him like a cape, he could see them all properly. They artfully splashed over his exposed chest and shoulders, snaking down his arm right to where the photo cut off. Jack wondered if the omega had a full sleeve. That’d be pretty ballsy—Jack himself had only gotten one on his wrist, and though he’d never breath a word of it to anyone, it’d hurt like a bitch.

He felt a bit like a high-strung suburban mom with his shock over the extensive tattoos but he’d just  _never_ seen an omega sport that kind of ink before. Not that it didn’t look good on this guy. It did. There was something about the deep blue designs and the creamy flawless skin that had Jack licking his lips. Like peanut butter and chocolate—two great tastes that taste great together.

Speaking of tasting, Rhys sure had a lot of food posted on his page. After Jack ran through the batch of suggestive pictures at the top, every other image seemed some snapshot of food—some with the clear finesse and precise plating of a restaurant, others obviously cooked from scratch at home. The food ranged from simple treats like ice cream and cake to elaborate entrees and everything in between, each glowing with the same aesthetic filter Rhys used on himself to really make the colors pop.

As Jack tabbed through each picture, he realized very few of the images featured the food alone, and that Rhys managed to edge himself into most of them, either holding the food in question up or posing over it as someone else took the picture. Some even went so far as to photograph Rhys mid-meal, with a utensil sticking out of his mouth or a dribble of melted ice cream on his lips or a satisfied expression splashed across his face as he grinned down at a half-empty plate.

_Interesting._

Jack knew that most of these social-media egotists tended to document every moment of their lives, including meals, but here the food seemed almost ornamental. The focus always remained on Rhys, even when the caption solely complimented whatever new cafe the omega had visited.

_Hmm_.

It seemed as purposeful as the shot of Rhys in his underwear that graced the top of his page. Every picture formed a part of a whole, a full package tailor-made and advertised to eager alphas looking to ogle an omega without consequence or commitment.

Jack was a little above that sort of thing, but he couldn’t deny that he found Rhys surprisingly cute. And the confidence to put himself out there against the odds impressed the CEO. He liked to see that kind of spunk.

Jack clicked the little “follow” icon right below Rhys’ profile picture.

Why not? It could be fun.  

* * *

Jack could get used to this social media thing.

He still didn’t bother monitoring the account attached to his name and Hyperion brand, but anything that had given him Rhys deserved at least a couple of personal accolades. And what website wouldn’t be clamoring for a Handsome Jack-brand seal of approval?

Too bad he was still sticking to anonymity for the time being. It just better suited his plans.

When he’d first started out following Rhys’ page there’d been no talk of “plans.” He’d just been looking to kill some time while he and Nisha were on the rocks. He’d expected things to fire up with her soon enough, but it’d been a good couple weeks and she’d still been none the more receptive, so instead of texting her in his free time he’d decided to focus on keeping up with Rhys, who actually bothered to  _update_  Jack on his life and give him some new info to chew on.

So now there was a plan. And the plan was “get to know Rhys better.”

Which had been pretty easy. After he’d figured out how to comment on pictures he’d gone a little nuts with it and replied to nearly every post of Rhys’ he could get his hands on before realizing he might be coming across as a  _little_  too creepy. Usually he could flirt indiscriminately and people would throw themselves at his feet, but without his name attached to his words they could come across pretty differently, and someone who couldn’t decipher the natural charm seeping through his compliments might be put off. But just as Jack had wondered if he should tone it down, Rhys had started replying to every one of them with little messages that had Jack’s heart beating just a little bit faster.

_“heh, thank you!”_

_“wow, thats really cool of you to say!”_

_“i really like this outfit too ;)”_

They were brief and obviously typed out without much thought, but Jack quickly noticed barely any of the other followers got similar text replies. Most of the other comments had likes or little emoticon reactions from Rhys, but no one’s had the same consistent responses that Jack’s had.

For a fraction of a second that realization had made him paranoid—did Rhys somehow  _know_  who he was, and that’s why he was being so responsive?—but he’d quelled that thought fast because it was impossible. He’d even created a completely different mailing address to sign up for this website, and unless Rhys was the best, most well-equipped hacker of his day, there was no way he’d figured out that Handsome Jack was one of his many admirers unless he’d gotten lucky on a one-in-a-million guess.

So maybe Jack was just that charming. Well—no  _maybe_ , he was definitely more than charming enough to soak the panties of everyone around him, even if they’d stumbled across only his expertly crafted comments. Of course Rhys couldn’t help himself from replying to every single one of them. Hell, if Rhys were ever to meet him in real life he’d probably drop to his knees and present himself in an instant.  

For someone who’d previously scorned social media, Jack ended up checking his phone and tablet a fair amount in the weeks since first following Rhys. He didn’t bother keeping up with any other profiles, but even then his feed was usually full and consistently updating thanks to Rhys’ prolific posting schedule. Jack quickly set his phone to notify him whenever Rhys posted anything new, or liked any of his comments, or replied to him, and refused to turn it off even when he was working. Many a meeting had to be halted by the cheerful chime of Jack’s phone, rendering all present nervously quiet as Jack whipped it out and quickly checked whether Rhys had replied to his compliment about the omega’s latest outfit.

They were paid to entertain his whims, so Jack took his time rereading Rhys’ comments or admiring a newly posted picture before letting the meeting continue.  

Sometimes Jack had trouble tearing his attention away from his phone and Rhys to actually pay attention when work sorely needed doing. He couldn’t completely shed his duty as CEO to obsess over some omega’s social media, after all.

Yet even with the attempts at restraint, Rhys quickly wormed his warm into Jack’s daily life. Checking the omega’s blog became a part of his routine, greeting him in the morning when he woke and closing the day when he laid down to go to sleep. Such intimacy felt strange, especially considering he’d never met Rhys face-to-face, and they only knew each other from shared comments, but Jack couldn’t kick the feeling of warmth he got whenever he saw another little snapshot of Rhys’ life.

There were two others who occasionally populated the omega’s photos—Jack didn’t bother remembering their names, mentally referring them only as “glasses-muscles” and “glasses-sidecut”—but they didn’t draw much of the attention away from Rhys. Solo pictures of them were few and far between indeed, and any group shots were taken with Rhys in the middle, the clear focal point. Jack was sure it was intentional. Rhys seemed smarter than the average air-headed, tech-obsessed chump absently posting pictures of their food or their face or their friends online with only passing thought about who sat on the other side of the screen. Rhys wasn’t like that. He knew what his followers were here to see.  _Him_.

Jack appreciated it. He appreciated that he didn’t have to scroll past nonsense to filter the stuff that was actually relevant to him and his needs. Jack didn’t even care when Rhys put up several pictures in a row consisting only of his face from slightly different angles or with different filters, clearly taken in succession but posted anyway because Rhys knew his fans would eat it all right up. And Jack was there, every time, clicking the little thumbs up icon, even putting a comment on all the images he liked best. And he liked most of them.

Some part of Jack knew he was being put on. Even so, he let Rhys reel him in, hopelessly enamored with the omega’s confidence and charm. After all, when you’re were as rich and successful as he was, with such a glut of power, there was no harm surrendering a little bit in the name of self-indulgence.

* * *

It was fairly easy to track down Rhys’ personal information. Jack had known the make of his arm from the beginning, and as Hyperion’s CEO he was privy to plenty of records not only of his employees, but of anyone who’d made a purchase from his company. And with something as expensive and taxing as a full cybernetic limb installation, there was bound to be a digital trail leading right to Rhys.

He found the omega’s information easily as soon as he’d gotten over his hangup about invading Rhys’ privacy. He wasn’t some creep with no life eager to pack up and go stalk the object of his online affection. He was just  _curious_ , and Rhys would be none the wiser, so why not scratch the itch and satisfy said curiosity?

Turns out, Rhys had gotten the limb installed only two years back, after a sixth month waiting period and confirmed psychological clearance. The medical records tracked his recovery up until he’d been discharged, with only intermittent self-reported follow-ups until about eighteen months previously.

Jack was impressed. He’d never heard of an omega consenting to cybernetic surgery before, and even the biggest and toughest alphas usually reported high levels of pain and low responsivity, some taking up anywhere between one to two years of physical therapy to get back up and running at full strength. But by Rhys’ many photos he was doing fine, using his cybernetic as organically as he would a flesh arm.

He saved the most pertinent of Rhys’ information to the notes on his phone until he figured out what he wanted to do with it. As receptive as Rhys had been to his comments and compliments, Jack guessed he might not be as welcoming if a gift showed up on his doorstep with no explanation.

So Jack decided to just cut to the chase. He exited Hyperion’s records and opened up Rhys’ profile. He clicked on the direct message option and took a deep breath, before scowling at his own nerves.

Damn it. He wasn’t some teenager with a crush. He bit his lip and quickly tapped out the message, before reading it twenty times over.

“ _I’ve been following you for awhile now and I wanted to send you something to show my appreciation. Would you be alright with that, kitten?”_

The new nickname felt like a bit of a dare, but he’d let slip “kiddo” and “pumpkin” a couple of times before in his comments and it hadn’t seemed to tick Rhys off, so sliding a slightly more suggestive one in there didn’t seem totally off the mark.

He hit _“_ send.”

Jack set aside his phone, trying to busy himself as he waited for a response. If he spent his time staring at the empty space he’d just drive himself crazy.

He had actually started to zone out and finally get some work done, when the pinging of his phone completely tore his attention back away. He nearly knocked it off of his desk in his haste to grab it, swearing. His fingers fumbled with each other, damp with sweat as he swiped open the screen and quickly scanned his inbox. He swallowed around the heart in his throat as he clicked on Rhys’ reply.

“ _lol yeah! if u wanna send me something you can go ahead and send it here! ;)”_

Jack squinted at the different address. It didn’t match the one in Rhys’ records at all—they weren’t even in the same zip code. Maybe he was just giving Jack a throwaway to keep him happy, or maybe he’d set up a different address than the one he actually lived in so he could receive gifts while also keeping his privacy. Jack bet on the latter—there’d been a couple of unboxing videos dedicated to some of his followers, so Rhys seemed to be getting presents from his audience  _somehow_.

Jack sat back in his chair, relaxing as he reading Rhys’ little message over and over again. He stroked his chin, confronted now with a new challenge—coming up with the best possible gift he could send.

* * *

It’d been a long time since Jack had struggled with self doubt.

After all, he was Hyperion’s apex alpha, it’s legendary CEO. Any word he spoke, no matter how outlandish, quickly became law. No one ever bothered to challenge him, so it felt redundant to even think of challenging himself.

But even since he’d sent off Rhys’ present a week earlier, uncertainty kept kicking him in the nuts, constantly reminding him he had no clue how Rhys would respond to his choice in gift.

In that week, Jack had somehow checked Rhys’ profile even more frequently than he had beforehand. His stomach constantly twittered with butterflies whenever he wasn’t actively looking at the phone or laptop screen. Each notification nearly gave him a heart attack, only to inevitably result in disappointment when it turned out Rhys had only posted another selfie. Not that Jack didn’t like seeing more of Rhys’ selfies, especially since the young man had recently gotten his nose pierced— something Jack would’ve never thought he’d like to see on an omega—but he needed to know if his present had come and if it lived up to Rhys’ standards.

Once a week passed, Jack’s anxiety tamed to a curious worry. What if his package had been lost in the mail? What if it’d been damaged? What if Rhys hadn’t liked it, and dumped it in the trash?

He forced himself away from his phone and back onto the workload that’d piled up considerably with his latent inattention. He actually ended up focusing more than he had been able to recently, but all that concentration flew out the window as his phone buzzed.

Jack’s heart leapt up into his throat as he saw the update from Rhys’ pop at the top of the screen, the title instantly grabbing his attention—“ _Secret Admirer? ;) Unboxing Vid 3/6/28 (NSFW).”_

Instead of a video screenshot, the thumbnail consisted of a composite image featuring Rhys comically shrugging his shoulders with a cute little smirk, surrounded by stylized questioned marks and clip art of an unopened box.

Jack had never clicked on a link so fast.

He sat on the edge of his seat, spine straight with anticipationas the page loaded, video screen blank save for the rapidly rotating loading icon. Every little dot twisted another knot in Jack’s stomach, and he tried to distract himself by tapping uselessly against the side of his phone until the video  _finally_  loaded all the way.

It opened onto a steady feed of a bed perfectly made-up with satin blue sheets and fluffy white pillows. In the background Jack could see a bookcase sparsely populated by books, mostly cluttered with little plushies and trinkets Jack recognized from some past pictures.

He studied the room, memorizing every inch of it that he could up until the point where Rhys appeared in the doorway and hopelessly drew Jack’s attention. He wore that floaty, white crop top that Jack loved, as well as the high-waisted jean shorts that accentuated the length of his legs. He smiled at the camera, lips popping with a slight touch of gloss that glistened like pristine clamshell, before sauntering over to the bed.

His hand held the same black lacquered box Jack had sent off the previous week. The alpha’s heart suddenly hammered in his chest so loud he could hear it in his ears and feel it in his clenched jaw.

“Hey everyone,” Rhys began as he slid atop the bed, giving Jack a nice view of his legs and striped socks, “I was just out with Vaughn and Yvette, took some really cool photos of the new Cream and Sugar Cafe, I’ll post them in just a second, but I just saw I had a package! _”_

He jiggled the box excitedly in hand as he sat cross-legged on the bed, the sleeve of his crop-top falling casually off his shoulder. He tossed his head back with a smile, strands of hair falling carefree over his forehead.

“Now, I have  _no_  idea what’s in this, but you guys always send me such good stuff, so I was thinking we could open it up together?” Rhys stroked the top of the box, tickling the satin bow.

“Yes,” Jack croaked aloud, readily pretending the ensuing laugh and wink from Rhys were meant only for him.

“Well, let’s not waste any time…I hope you guys are as excited as I am to see what’s inside!”

Rhys pulled at the knot of the bow, before realizing with a snicker it only wrapped around the  lid. He shot an excited look towards the camera as he carefully lifted the top up and away, revealing the contents of the box.

“ _Oh_.” Rhys sounded slightly surprised, but the smirk he wore bled through any pretense. Jack wondered if he’d opened the gift off-camera and thus had known already what to expect, or if he was  _really_  already that excited by the delicately crafted chocolate cock that lay inside the box, cradled in fine golden silk like the crown jewel of some legendary kingdom.

“ _Oh wow_ ,” Rhys chuckled as he stroked the top of the chocolate, his fingers trailing from the bulbous tip down to the thick knot near the base. Jack clenched his other hand against his thigh, the fingers propping up his phone sweaty.

“You guys are really  _dirty_.” Rhys slid his hand underneath the chocolate, holding it flat in both palms out to the camera so his audience could get a better look. The soft light of Rhys’ bedroom glowed on the curves of veins expertly carved into the chocolate, giving the cock as realistic a texture as possible.

It better be as good as it looked. Jack had gone through the trouble of creating and sending the mold off himself, not to mention paying a pretty penny for the custom order.  

“Damn. What am I gonna do with this?” Rhys coyly tapped the corner of his lips as he grasped the shaft of the cock, looking down at the tip. “I mean….there  _is_  the obvious…”

Jack inhaled sharply, his eyes wide. He steadily unclenched his fist against his thigh, letting it drift towards his crotch.

“I mean it does smell  _really_  good…I did just have lunch, but a little nibble couldn’t hurt, right?”

Rhys’ pink, glossy lips spread around the bulbous head of the chocolate cock, his eyelids fluttering closed. He bobbed his head slightly, leaving a trail of saliva coating the sculpted glans as he sucked. Jack’s hand grabbed at his crotch, feeling his own cock stir in response to its chocolate double reaping such lurid attention. He hissed, palming his dick through his pants as Rhys continued to suck and lick until he accidentally broke the tip of the cock off, splashing gooey vanilla down his chin.

“Heh….w _oops_.” Rhys wiped the cream off his lips, licking his fingers with a happy moan. A strangled croak slipped from Jack as Rhys smirked at the camera, eyes half-lidded.

“I didn’t know it came with cream-filling…”

Jack finally popped open his pants as Rhys resumed eating the treat, lips sliding down the shaft of the chocolate cock. More cream dribbled down the side as Rhys broke off more and more pieces of chocolate, groaning around mouthful after mouthful. Flecks of cream and bits of chocolate tumbled down his chin towards his chest, where Rhys made no move to brush them away as he kept pushing the cock down his throat.

None of Rhys’ previous videos had been this suggestive. It might have been inevitable, with the nature of Jack’s gift, but the choice to video it and post it online had still been all Rhys’. There must be a reason for it. Even if the reason was to just get Jack’s motor running. And probably the motors of all the alphas and betas keeping up with the kid’s profile, but when Rhys fluttered his eyelashes and grinned around the mouthful of chocolate cock, it felt achingly  _personal._

Jack’s free hand squeezed his own, fisting it up and down as he watched Rhys take his time eating the chocolate all the way down to the bulbous knot near the base.

“ _Oh_ …it’s so big…so much…” Rhys panted, his pink tongue slipping between his lips. “I don’t know if I can fit it all but…I don’t wanna stop…”

_Please, please don’t_. Jack urged as he squeezed the base of his cock, fingering the solid bulge of his knot.  He watched as Rhys scraped his teeth along the already bitten, wet edge of the chocolate, breaking off a large piece of the base.

“Oh my god…. _mm_ …it’s so thick down here…” Rhys moaned between mouthfuls. Cream stained his crop-top, the knot practically bursting with the thick goo as he sucked as much as he could into his mouth.

Jack struggled to keep his eyes open and focused even as he frantically jerked his cock, not wanting to miss a moment even as arousal thrashed around his loins. He hunched over the edge of his desk, panting between his teeth as he finally came. His hips jerked, painting his jeans and the underside of his desk with thick, dripping white as his cry bounced off the walls of his office.

Rhys pushed the last of the chocolate between his lips, his cheeks bulging with the treat as he chewed. His lips pursed, luxuriant, before he swallowed. Cream trickled to the edge of his chin but he made no effort to wipe it away as he relaxed, uncrossing his legs and letting them spread wide against the bed.

“Oh  _man_ ,” Rhys purred, sliding his hands down his sides and underneath his belly, tugging the turquoise hem up just a tad, just enough to show the slightest curve of creamy skin. Though Jack’s bones trembled like jelly in the aftermath of the orgasm, he still stiffened, leaning in until he sat practically nose to nose with his screen.

“I ate too much…but it was  _so_ good, you guys _.”_ Rhys pulled his shirt up further as he unbuttoned his shorts, sliding the zipper down to expose more of his stomach. The frontal view didn’t show much, but as Rhys rose on his knees shuffled to the side Jack could see his middle bulging out from the treat, the treat  _Jack_  had sent him. Rhys moaned softly, rubbing his hand up and down the slight curve as he sat on his heels and arched his spine back. He tucked his chin towards his chest, eyelids half-closed in satisfaction as he smiled right at the camera.

“Thank you, unicorndaddy69….nice name, by the way. Real cute.” Rhys winked, licking the last little bit of cream off the edge of his lips. “I hope you send me more stuff soon.”

Jack paused the video just as Rhys lifted his hand to turn the camera off. He reversed a couple of seconds, freezing on that perfect, satisfied smile, the hands cradling his full belly.

Jack never thought he’d be attracted to an omega. He’d heard other alphas talk about how badly they wanted to knot one, to keep them rooted on their cocks as they felt them fill with seed, but he’d never cared about that stuff. He’d never wanted to mindlessly follow his instincts—he was way too smart for that crap.

But Rhys was slowly getting him to come around.

Neither Nisha nor many of the betas he’d screwed had allowed him to knot them, but by the amount he’d painted on their thighs or let slip through the cracks of his fingers he knew he could come a truckload—more than enough to fill Rhys to the brim.

Jack relaxed, sliding down into his chair as he cradled the phone against his chest, too lazy yet to bother cleaning up. He scrolled down past the paused video, tapping open the comment box with a grin.

“ _You’re very welcome, Rhysie.”_


End file.
